


Part III

by VeronikaLP



Series: You're In a Car With a Beautiful Boy [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Geez, I really am, I'm Sorry, M/M, There's hope yet?, These are getting longer by the minute, ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:10:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronikaLP/pseuds/VeronikaLP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you love each other, but he's in love with her, and you're in love with him..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part III

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry for this. To be honest, I don't feel so sure about this one but I had to get it out of my chest, as cheesy as it turned out to be on certain parts. I apologize in advance.  
> I hope you get to envision the whole thing like I did, and if you're wondering, the song Zayn sings on the soundcheck is I'll Follow You, the one he sings in the car is Miracle, and the song they sing to each other is Through The Ghost, all by Shinedown and all found on the Amaryllis CD. (This bit of the fic was ridiculously self-indulgent because I love that album to pieces). And if you're wondering what was the song as background for Harry and Louis, it's Unity. Same band. Same album. I know.  
> Inspired, once again, by the great Richard Siken.  
> It is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine and mine only.  
> I obviously don't own them, because if I did, they would've already made their love canon, so, let's keep this tiny piece of fiction between you and I, yeah?  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him _~~because it’s common occurrence now because you’ve never really stopped doing it~~_ but you do.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you let him step out first, go on with his life, do what he wants to, because that’s what he did all those months ago. There was nothing you could’ve done back then, and there isn’t anything you can do now.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s got sparkling blue eyes and has become your secret companion as of late, because _he understands_ , and you don’t truly believe he does until you see the look in his eyes whenever a mop of curls and piercing, emerald eyes enter the room. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you love each other, like soulmates that aren’t supposed to be in love, won’t ever be in love, bonded over the masochistic pain and tendency of being in love with other souls that belong to someone else.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s showing you the lyrics he wrote in the quiet space of a studio along with a pair of soft, brown eyes. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy struggling to work words out of your mouth when your ribcage is shrinking at the same time your heart swells. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while the relation to the lyrics has always been there, this time it hurts all the more.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, wondering how you’ll survive the next ten months of your life, how you’ll sing those words and not break down in front of the audience, how you’ll record the new ones that scratch at the gash that’s still as open and wide and raw as that first time in that car, how you’ll have him right there and then, closer than anyone, and yet so distant, it hurts just to think about it.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, the slow pace of a new tour slowly creeping onto your life until everything is a blur and then suddenly it’s all gone. You savor it, the slow burn, getting accustomed to new routines and new clothing and new shenanigans, but at the same time you desperately want to fast forward time, make it end already so you can be back at the safety of your home, because whenever you stand too still you think of the smile on his face and the ring on her finger, full of promises and a future you once envisioned yourself in, with him. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while the anxiety of your knee surgery has stayed in the back of your mind like an itch you can’t scratch, you desperately want to get it done just so you have an excuse to disappear for a few months.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you have to bite back your words, silently apologize to the world, send only good thoughts to the universe so karma doesn’t hit you as hard, because you were wrong; you were wrong and too caught up inside your head to take a look at the big picture, to see and feel how much you love this, how nothing compares to the thrill of screams and notes and chords and jumps, how the lights and the stage and the signs and the sea of exhilarating fans make up your true home, where you really belong.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy; truly smiling for what seems ages but has only been months, rush of adrenaline still pumping in your veins. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and without preamble you hug him tight and hold on for dear life. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who asks what the unexpected sign of affection was for, and you just shrug and whisper, _‘for pointing at the direction where I truly belong’_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and the confused puppy look works so good on him you wonder why those emerald eyes haven’t fallen for his blue yet, as hard and painful and burning as you did for a pair of brown ones with a dip of gold. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy when realization finally downs on him, and he smiles, all brightness and white teeth, and says _‘yeah, can’t wait to play that one on the next tour’_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it still hurts to look at him, to have him by your side, to still consider him a close friend even after all. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it hurts even more on stage, when it’s just the five of you or just you two against the world, when it’s all touches and lingering looks and beep beep boop. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and the pain is unbearable when you watch him sleep on his bunk, beautiful and soft features meant for someone else to see, for someone else to enjoy, but never for someone else to truly love, because you’re sure you’re the only one who loves them like this, with a burning passion that makes you wonder how charred you are on the inside, how your body is still working if all you’ve been lately is fire and lava and flames and so much pain.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, headed towards sound check, and he’s going on about a musical week he has been planning for some time now, and you truly don’t understand what he means until you get there, until you hear the piano strings of a song you know too well. You have come to live with the pain, bear it like a brand, because it’s a part of you now, and it’s better to keep it there, lingering and quiet, instead of poking at it every chance you get, only to hiss afterwards and hate yourself a little bit for being _~~stupidly, fruitlessly, hopelessly~~_ in love, but this just cuts your heart open again, because it’s his voice you’re hearing, softly singing words you find yourself mutely singing along to, and you think back to that day, to Bleeding Love and Leona Lewis and the first time you held his hand.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, because you had to get out of there, take a step back and breathe before you came crashing down in front of all those others who have no idea what’s going inside your head, inside your chest. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, because all the other three won’t let you be alone for long, because they know you need and appreciate the company, because they let you vent it out to them and break down just a little before the vulnerability gets to be too much and you no longer hold your heart so far out in your sleeve. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, still thinking of the bridge that was sung, still feeling the cutting burn _‘I'm not about to compromise, give you up to say goodbye’_ left in your lungs. _~~You’d wonder if there’s a part of you that hasn’t been branded by him, but it’s pointless since you already know the answer~~_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you wish you could plead oblivion, but you know you’ve been too observant and quiet to notice the change in his manner, to know he’s different now. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you want to know why, to understand the reasoning behind it, but you are not allowed, so you step back and keep watching him from afar.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re starting to regret the day you showed him that band and that album, because it’s not fair for the lyrics to be thrown back at your face, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, like he’s not aware of the damage that lingers with them. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you turn your gaze away from the pits of brown and gold that scrutinize you as if searching for something, but you can’t stop your ears from listening to his _‘as you sparkle in the sky, I’ll catch you while I can, ‘cause all we are is all I am’_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, arms crossed on your chest and a single tear prickling the corner of your eye, because that used to be you, that’s still you, you still are all he is and what all of you five combined are, and how could he possibly understand?

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you tell him that he should have better ideas than a musical week, that this isn’t Glee and people don’t express their feelings through songs and the others completely understand the message without them having to explain anymore, because life and feelings are more complicated than that, and he just laughs, loud and carefree, and wraps his arm around your shoulders, saying that you’re too blind to see, but that you eventually will. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who swears up and down that this is the greatest idea he’s ever had, and that for the next tour it won’t just be a week, that all of them will have to sing their current feelings during sound checks and breaks, and that maybe they’ll cover a different song on each concert, and you still don’t understand how that’ll be helpful for any of you.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, guitar strumming in your hand and lyrics pouring out of your lips, because he has learned a few tricks from his friend and put his blue eyes to good use, and so you found yourself agreeing to sing this particular one. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re suddenly on the scene of a romcom, but it can’t be, because no matter how surreal, this is your life, this is what all your lives are like right now, and still it’s as if by invisible strings or maybe by the fact that they’ve stopped being idiotic for a second, blue eyes merge with green and that’s all it takes. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re still singing, playing the soundtrack of their little love scene, with hushed confessions, clothing clinging, and a few kisses exchanged.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s no longer in such pain, who’s finally laughing as happily and as fully as he once did, and your heart swells for him. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy that stares at the couple sitting behind him like a proud parent, feeling the same way as you do.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy with golden, brown eyes when the sunlight catches them just right, and he blocks the world away from you for a few seconds, singing only the chorus because he knows how much it means to you. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who sings _‘I used to wake up to the color of your soul’_ and so you have no choice but to sing _‘the world will never know you like I do’_ back to him, because it’s only fair.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, drag of ten months finally coming to a close, ending musical moments that are still too raw for your liking, and the high that only comes from concerts that you’ll surely miss when you’re home.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s hugging you like the world will end tomorrow, like he’s not sure you’ll ever see each other again, and you’re not doing better yourself, holding onto him for dear life, because you’re burning, ablaze from that love that still refuses to let go, but it’s more of a welcome balm that washes calmly over you, and you soak it in until there’s no more for you to take.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who whispers _‘I’ll miss you’_ right before heading home.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while you shouldn’t be in love with him, you still are.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you _~~still always will forever~~_ love him _~~because it doesn’t change a thing but you’re starting to come in terms with it~~_ but you do.


End file.
